I can finally see it, my soul

I am not trying to be shallow, any picture would have done. But (drum roll please)  I have finally learned how to use the color splash technique on photo bucket (ok ok, I learned 2 months ago, but this is the first time I did it on my own picture.)

I guess you could say that I have always had a weird obsession with eyes. Every boy that I crush on, it's the eyes baby. Well, and the dark hair...I can't recall ever being with any a light haired men. Weird. Now you know 2 things about me, I love eyes and blonds should dye their hair dark if they want a chance with Jen. Woo!

I promise I am not being vain, although the compliments this week are making it difficult not to run down to the court house, mirror in hand. I just wanted you to see what I see. When there is no distraction, no other color and your eyes are forced to focus on one area of a picture, what do you see? I saw my soul. There it is, whispering questions to me through the windows that are my eyes. Helping me to fulfill my life mission by never being satisfied with my current knowledge base.

But don't be fooled. Although my outside (neck up) is tolerable to stare at, I am by no means beautiful. Why do I say this? Because beauty is on the inside and I am filled with dark crippling hatred. Until I can learn to let it go, I will always be the Frankenstein monster on the other side of my reflection.

Ready?

Taken June 28, 2011, @ Work

Pondering: "________________?" 

Did you see it? My thought captured in that precise moment by the camera? I did. What was I thinking?

The world may never know.

DISCLAIMER:*This picture was not altered in any way. I simply erased all color from the photo with a click of a button and then indicated the area where I wanted the color returned. This was the actual color of my eyes at this moment. Sometimes they are hazel with green around the iris and sometimes they are a golden brown. I guess it depends on the weather. I added color back to my lips at one point and decided to remove it because it looked a little clown-ie, lol.*

Any minute now...the sun always rises tomorrow...

Nothing compares to that feeling of losing something. Whether it’s losing at the reality of life or whether it is losing something you hold dear. In some cases, it feels like both. I like to prepare my hours for the week on Monday so that I am less flustered on Friday. The first day of July (This Friday) was grayed out and I panicked. I thought, oh, this is how they let me know that Thursday is my last day. I held it together long enough to call my agency. Apparently my contract was through to July 1^st, but my assignment hasn’t indicated that they wanted it to officially end yet, so I am working on getting Friday active again on my hours screen. This fright has made my numbered days feel like numbered minutes. Every temp knows that any day could be the last day. Not thinking those thoughts is what separates the good temps from the bad temps. I am finding it harder and harder to be positive though. I sometimes wish that I had not showed interest in the permanent position. Then this would be like any other assignment. A job that needs to get done by someone. Someone like me, who chose to be apart of the uneducated class.

It doesn’t help that Monday’s are always the worse for me. Not in the way that everyone hates Monday. I am not sure I hate Mondays. I just always feel like I am getting over a small case of agoraphobia every Monday. I stay locked up in my house all weekend, not saying a word, not doing much and then I am thrust back into society where I must smile and socialize. I want to run and go hide in my house, all alone. But I come back to work every Monday because the fear of losing my house is stronger than the fear of leaving it for 10 hours. I hope that one day, I won’t actually develop agoraphobia. After all, it’s all in my head and I control my head. I think therefore I do.

I have such anxiety this morning.

Just thinking about my numbered minutes. Sometimes my boss walks by my desk and I think, this is it. This is the moment that she will tell me my world is over. I find myself avoiding her out of fear. Like, if you can’t find me, you can’t release me. It’s silly and childish. I want to feel immature though. I want to hide in a cupboard and watch all the adults as they look for me. I look down at the finger tips pressing the keys to this blank document and I think, “These are not the hands of a child.” I can’t remember the day that I grew up but I look all around me and it’s evident that I am no longer a child and I haven’t been one for some times. I wish I could remember the exact moment when I crossed that line. Maybe it wasn’t a line but a series of achievements that just finally won me the grand prize. Like, Jen, you have done this, done that and survived this, you are ready to be a boring member of the society you loathe so much. Lovely, but what now? Is acting like I know to fool the younger generation apart of the package? I thought people my age hit 25 and magically, they knew the answers to all those questions. But in reality, I just got better at acting like I did. I wish I had learned the answer rather than learning how to deal with the unknown. I don’t want to deal. I want to know.

I feel lost, but I know that I have the tools to look found. If I looked how I felt, how different would my life really be? Seems like I would be worse off. I should count my blessing and be thankful my last minute isn’t this one.

Happy Monday readers.  

Good news! I now have a proper diagnosis, I’m a __________ !! What?

I don't know how to explain my recent life best. I want to use the word roller coaster except I think you have to go up in order to go down. I'd say it's been more of a plateau with a cliff. That being said, I can't tell if I am sitting at the bottom of the cliff preparing for the next plateau or the next cliff.

I had some recent dominoes topple and I'm not sure what the end result will be. It's not about being scared of the unknown; it's about fearing the educated guess of possibilities. I could tell myself things will be alright because they have to...and that would be the positive outlook on a slightly dim situation. However, I'm not in the business of lying to myself. Experience tells me that my taking the last 3 months for granted is about to bite me in the ass. Easy come easy go. I'm slowly realizing that a lot of hard work in my early 20's may have made the rest of my life a breeze. But I'm me and there's no way me at 20 would have heard anything past the words "more school". I cringe a little today just thinking about it...meh.

The door to my current employment is closing and not in a super negative or bad way; just a door that someone else needs open more than me. I'll find another door and I'll walk through fearless because I know that I chose this reality. I don't know for certain what doors are available for me, but I know that I'll be ready when the time comes. I can be upset and frustrated my last hours, days or weeks on this assignment or I can bust my butt and prove to another company that temps are a wonderful resource for future needs. My current road is looking like I’m going to be a career temp. I love change, learning new things and I'm a great gopher. Plus, when people get to know me and realize that I'm not the most socially accepted, I can just move on to a new set of strangers. I'm not going to lie, I feel like I have family at my current assignment; a mom, a big sister, an aunt and even a brother. But I can't think about silly things like that. This isn't an episode of the office. This is my real life with real people working for some unknown goal. The goal that will make these hardships in life worth it. What lessons am I learning or even possibly teaching? I won't know until I am at the end. And even then, maybe I won't want to know.

I have had a lot of inspiration to express my self recently. I didn’t put cursor to blank word document maybe because I was unclear about how to express my self positively. When all people see is your negative side, you begin to morph into only your negative side. There was a recent south park episode that just really hit a nerve with me. Because again, it was like looking in a mirror. It was the episode where Stan turns 10 years old and a new music comes out called Tween Wave (which sounds a lot like electronic music, hardy har har south park jerks). Any who, all the adults in the episode hear people literally taking a poop when ever they try to listen to the younger generation’s music and vice versa when the kids try to listen to Bob Dylan, lol, good times. It’s obviously a hilarious twist to everyone saying “your music sounds like crap”. The part that I could relate to is when all of a sudden Stan hears the crap noises from both the young music and the old music. And before you know it, he is seeing crap every where. When people talk, crap is literally falling out of their mouth. He goes to see the doctor for his alignment and is diagnosed with non other, the Cynical Asshole Syndrome. Well crap. This is me in a nut shell. Someone in my life even said to me the other day, “You really don’t see good things when you look at the world, do you Jen?” No, I see how the world really is. I am not negative, but I can pretend to be positive if that will make the people in my life happy. I know deep down though, the world is not made of rainbows and butterflies. But I promise to stop cramming my views down your throats. I’m not a Christian; I know when to stop preaching. I will say this, when I am pretending to be positive, I do feel better about my existence. Don’t tell the masses though; faking a positive outlook is like smiling through the pain. Try it, you might find it really uncomfortably hard.  But maybe, just maybe, the more I fake, the more real it can become for me. Like gluing rose colored glasses to my face. Eventually, I won’t know they are there. (Because my bad memory, remember?)

Having squeezed this much inspiration out of me, I think I am ready to end this post and eat my raw almonds for breakfast. YUM!

Have a happy Thursday, one more day till freedom Friday!  

I think I am a square, in denial.

I went to bed last night with a question burning on my mind. I woke feeling like I just sat through the 2^nd viewing of a movie hoping the outcome would be different. The outcome is always the same; never changing because it can not change. I am not in a movie; I change. I can be more than the words that I type or whisper. I can be more than the lies I recite hoping no one can see through the ruse. I am a good person… I am a good person…I thought I was a good person. I need to know if I can be the kind of good person I want to be. Standards so high, the intention is really to fail. Did you know that about me? My question was, am I living a stereotype in denial? I knew the answer before I knew the question. Sometimes the question is the answer. This question was my answer. Knowing doesn’t feel good though. It is good to know the truth. The truth can set you free. They say that this is half the battle. I have always been half way done then. It feels more like I haven’t taken one step forward in a while. In fact, feels more like I am walking in the prints I already left. My foot doesn’t fit… I am making the prints bigger, wider, and fatter. Buddha says you are what you say you are. Not literal in the way that I can say, I am a bird (Literal in more of how words have power.) If you say you will fail before you start, you have already failed. This is why I have so many words. I want to succeed before I start. You can talk so much that walking becomes impossible; A task that you put on a pedestal too high to reach. I talked up a good story with no intention of living it out… If I stop talking, will I live my dreams instead?

I thought I was shaped like a star being forced through a square slot. I just found out I was always a square, fitting precisely where I created my self to fit. Why did I create a square if I wanted a star? They say that you can not solve a problem if you don’t get to the root and pluck it out from there. I don’t understand this concept. I understand how they relate, I just don’t understand how someone who doesn’t know me can pluck a root I can not reach. If I can’t do it alone, what makes you think your guidance will help? A back seat driver in my own car of life. I can do this by myself…I can do this by my self; I need to do this by myself, stop looking at me. Leave me alone. I can do it. I can’t do it.

I thought I could, but in the middle of reaching for independence, I became more dependant than ever. This time, no one was there to be my crutch. Is it a sign of strength when you tell your self no to something you always given your self in the past? I reached out of my rabbit hole, tried pulling my self out with expectations set in stone… It was not what I expected and I fell in deeper. I am almost too deep that there is no return. What happens if I can’t make it out again… will someone save me? Is that why I keep falling…I am waiting to be saved, by my crutch, my new crutch.

I heard that when a child has so much tyranny shoved down their throat, they never develop into an individual. They develop as always apart of something-someone else. I was so angry when I heard this. I wanted to hug my self and cry and scream. My sister said that crying never solves anything. I have seen it cure people. But she is right, it will never cure me. It is only a constant reminder of what I am missing and still searching for… perhaps this is that root that I can not locate. Maybe I was looking in the wrong place. It’s not fair to place blame. You need to move forward and think about now. I hear my self saying that I don’t blame anyone, but in my heart, I can hear the blame game. I can hear my self getting angry at myself for being me. I hear my self cursing the day I was born. Repeating the same verbal abuse I grew accustomed to…

Words are so powerful. Most comments are made with an once of truth. It is not common to form words into a sentence you didn’t piece together one time or another. You thought about it, consciously or sub-consciously. Whether it was your intent to ever vocalize it or not is the part where people aren’t thinking. “I didn’t think before I spoke”… you thought, that is how words are formed, thinking. You just didn’t think about the cause and the effect. Some effects are not instantaneous…some slowly eat away at you until you are left with nothing. Inception, the movie - see it, and you will see my meaning. An idea planted, but unlike the movie, I know who planted my ideas. I can’t unplant them because I can not find their root. I am so lost in my own mind looking for the root. I need to unplant the root. Unplant the idea…Unplant the... I can’t find it… it doesn’t want to be found.

A virus for my soul?

So smart… It makes me think I am strong and smart and beautiful. I am scared, I am witty and mean. I selectively look in the mirror and I see the traits I desire. I see the star shape. I am walking past a huge reflective window and in my peripheral vision, I see it. What was that! Is that me! It can’t be me, I don’t look like that. I don’t talk like this. I am not her! What is this trick, stop it now. Stop looking at me! I break the window. It’s ok now, there is no square there. Just Jen as a star. Always as a bright shining star. Reality finally hits me like a ton of bricks. I am not a star. I am not kind and beautiful. It hurts to break down the mirrors in my mind. It hurts-make it stop. Everyday, a new one cracks and I see a little bit more of what you are seeing. Life makes sense. They are not jealous of me. They don’t even like me. The honest ones, they were always jerks and assholes. Maybe they were my only true friends. I am in a dark room and there is one huge mirror, staring at me from across the room. Star Jen is gone. I see this thing, this Frankenstein creation staring at me. It’s eyes move when I move mine. It’s nose crinkles up when I crinkle mine. It’s hands reaches up to touch the mirror at the same exact spot my hand touches. This is really me. This is really what I look like. This is really what I sound like. I hate this person. I can’t stand this person. How did this happen. The past is foggy. One memory at a time, I see the binging. I see the emotion coping mechanisms. I see the cruelty. Who created you! Why are you here! All I can do now is accept and change.

If I don’t change it… I might as well load the gun and shoot. End it quickly rather than endure the agony. I tell people, if I get cancer, I want pancreatic cancer. It kills you almost as fast as you can get diagnosed. I don’t want to struggle for years. I want the decision set in stone and followed through… I have a type of cause and effect created soul cancer. It won’t kill me today and I will probably live tomorrow. But there will not be a whole lot of tomorrows. Fewer and fewer with each breathe. I hope that the lesson in the life is the journey back from this. I hope that I reach my goal and I die a star. I can’t die a square. I won’t die a square. I will not be a square…